About
two miles from my old home there is a service station I often
used to go to. I trusted the mechanics, the owner knew me by name,
and the prices were competitive when they weren’t simply better
than everywhere else. Just about every car owner’s dream, a repair
shop to be trusted.
I
spent thousands of dollars on tires and axles and distributors
over the years. I brought my car there, and when we started dating,
my wife’s car went there too. For years after I moved some twenty
or thirty miles away, I still brought my car to this station when
I needed work done. These people earned my business, and my respect,
by the way they treated me.
Once,
I needed a bulb replaced in a taillight. Another time I experienced
a problem with some fuses. What was the charge these items? Nothing.
At least not in the start. In the end, for the mechanics to give
me these parts it probably cost the owner under ten dollars in
expenses. But, the trust and loyalty those little efforts instilled
in me brought me back time and again for thousands of dollars
in repairs and service.
Both
of the mechanics that worked on my car left this station years
ago. The travel to that part of the state for repairs had begun
to wear thin. But needing work done on a car and not having a
clue where to go, I made an appointment to return to the place
that had treated me right so many times before. After five hours
of looking, the individual taking care of my car couldn’t tell
me even remotely what was wrong. A recommendation to return to
the dealership was heeded, and I went to pick up my car. When
I arrived, I was presented with a large bill for the five hours
of labor to perform an estimate that I never received.
My
parents still live near this service station. And I travel that
way once or twice a week to visit them. The culmination of my
most recent experiences means I won’t be buying gas there every
week for the next ten or so years. I won’t be getting my oil changed,
a tune up done or my brakes fixed here again. When you add up
all those things, was the lost repeat business I would have brought
worth a one-time, fifty-dollar labor charge?
I
should tell you that they eventually waived the fee, but the experience
still leaves a mark. And I’m certainly not suggesting that a mechanic’s
time, or any professional’s time, isn’t worth compensation. Every
detail of any business transaction does not have to favor me.
I just want to feel like it does. Perhaps it’s an ego thing, but
I want to feel I’m being treated fairly.
A
few days after my last experience I drove down the street to a
place that specializes in doing oil changes. Twenty minutes after
I handed over my keys, my car was at the front door of the shop.
The oil had been changed. And the washer fluid had been filled.
And power steering and brakes fluids had been checked. The windows
had been washed and the carpets had all been vacuumed. Maybe they
can’t fix my exhaust system, but that’s fine right now. At least
I know of one remaining “service” station.
In
the past few weeks, this service station not only changed ownership,
but has gone out of business. Gee, I wonder why.